


Mandarina

by withswords



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asexual Character, Beach Holidays, Fluff, Goth Marius, Implied past emotional abuse, Light family drama, M/M, Oral Sex, Romance, The opposite of a slow burn. this is a fast burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 02:46:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17779112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withswords/pseuds/withswords
Summary: Marius is prepared to have a miserable vacation.





	Mandarina

**Author's Note:**

> This fic started out as a very dumb joke and if you can read this thing and tell me what the joke was then you win a prize.
> 
> Also this is technically a Valentine's Day fic! It doesn't take place on Valentine's Day but goddamn it it's about love and I published it on V-Day.

Dread. Misery. Despair. Life's sly smile would never shine again for him. He was deprived of all things that could bring happiness.

Somebody kicked his bed.

“Get up, Marius,” said his cousin Theo in his dry ‘my mother made me be here’ voice. Marius shifted his arm from its position artfully thrown over his face. Theo stood over him, looking unimpressed with his cousin’s pleading eyes and glum mouth.

“Ma says you can’t stay in here all day.”

Marius wanted to bite back a petulant little “why not,” except he knew damn well why. His aunt had paid to book the trip, had paid to drag him along, and was paying for this nice air conditioned cabin that his unlit room was in.

“I’m not comfortable out there,” Marius muttered lamely. It was the truest way to explain it. He wasn’t comfortable around strangers. He wasn’t comfortable with the swim trunks she had foisted on him- for god’s sake, they were _yellow_. And he certainly wasn’t comfortable under the blinding, boiling sun. In his normal clothes, he’d melt to nothing. In the trunks, he’d burn to a crisp.

Theo rolled his eyes. That condescending popular-kid attitude that hadn’t gone away when he became an adult. It mortified and inspired a kind of pity in Marius.

“You’re so against trying anything. It’s fucking depressing. Come get something to drink at least, we’ll blow everybody else off if you just get out of bed.”

“That’s not legal.” He meant drinking.

“It is here. Even if it wasn’t, who cares?”

“I don’t like drinking.”

Marius rolled over to face the wall, so Theo kicked his bed again. Marius took his pillow and stuffed it over his head. Though muffled, he could hear Theo leave the room. He drew his knees up as high as they could go. He wasn’t very flexible. In the dark, he heard his phone go off. No doubt it was Cosette. He wished that his family hadn’t gotten him international data. He’d rather not know who was trying to reach him anymore.

She had been sending him regular messages, with all her usual charm and sweetness. It seemed genuine, which made it that much worse. He couldn’t even be properly mad at her when she was so nice. If only she’d turned out to be a harpy.

By and by, his aunt came in. She sat on the bed and took the pillow off his face. Her long fingers brushed through his hair, smoothed it down; she smelled like sunblock and he knew she was getting it in his hair, but he didn’t dare stop her.

“Why don’t you come out, Marius?”

That was all he could take. Any more, and the pressure would make him cry. He sat up slowly, posture still wilted.

His aunt set her hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “That’s my boy.”

She left and gave him a few minutes to compose himself. After some deep breaths and a big long scream into the pillow, he rolled out of bed.

“You’re not wearing the trunks,” she said as he came out, like she was actually surprised.

“Leave it alone, ma,” Theo advised.

Marius blinked what might have been a ‘thank you’ to his cousin in Morse code. Theo wasn’t looking anyway, so not like it mattered.

“I’m gonna go out,” he declared very softly. “Just to walk.”

“You’ll burn up like that. You’d better put on some shorts at least.”

“I’m okay.”

He ducked back into his room for a moment and re-emerged with a black umbrella to match the rest of his outfit. Theo and his aunt exchanged a look, but said nothing. As he left out the front door and popped the umbrella open, he heard the sound of her lamenting, “Daddy really did a number on that boy.”

The sand was unbearably hot on his bare feet, he realized after a few steps. He took awkward little hops down the beach, kicking up sand and shell bits and nearly getting his umbrella caught and blown away by the ocean gusts. Eventually he got to the water line, where he could stop and catch his breath without his soles roasting. A wave rolled upon to the shore and soaked the hem of his jeans. Ugh.

Knowing he couldn’t be caught going back inside until he’d done something to satisfy their expectation of a walk, he went down the shoreline with his head low. If nothing else, the smell of the ocean was pleasant here, crisp and salty. The few times he’d been to the shore back home, it had been sort of filthy. But this was manufactured to be perfect. There were some kids splashing in the water a ways down who ignored him. He knew the beach was supposed to be for private use, not for the whole resort a mile down the coast, but he hadn’t expected anybody to follow those rules. It’s not like there was a fence. There was barely even a sign.

Walking did as much to clear his head as sitting in a dark room. Every time he let his thoughts go unchecked for too long, it was back to Cosette, Cosette, Cosette. The beach was less claustrophobic than his room, but fully dressed, it was hotter. He might as well be sucked down to hell and he’d hardly tell the difference but for the absence of water on his feet.

Someone was shouting from a little way off, and it took until the guy was practically on top of him to realize that it was _him_ being called after.

“Hey!” said the bright, breathy voice. Marius had the umbrella tilted down enough that he couldn’t see the stranger’s face. Just from about the abs down.

He was the kind of deep tan of someone who spent a lot of time in the sun, with stocky legs, and nothing on but an orange speedo that was-- Marius flushed and lifted the umbrella to see his face because he’d die mortified if he didn’t have something else to look at. He was kind of goofy looking. Not that he was ugly or anything. Just that he had a big, dumb, happy look on his face. A hint of mischief. His eyes were huge and dark like Cosette’s.

“... Hi,” Marius murmured. He looked down to avoid eye contact and then remembered oh no, oh no, and focused on the white ocean froth around his feet.

The stranger took a step closer, hands on his hips. He was a full few inches shorter than Marius was.

“You’re with the family down at number eight, right?”

“Uh, I don’t…”

“Oh yeah, no, the blue one. I met the rest of your folks yesterday. It’s uh, Marius, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

The stranger laughed. “You guess?”

Marius blinked hard in succession and hoped he didn’t look as miserable as he felt. If there was something wrong with his face, it went unmentioned, as the stranger plowed on.

“Call me Courfeyrac. Would you let me take you into town, give you the quick tour?”

That was when it clicked. He was some kind of employee at the resort, probably at the disposal of the cabin renters. A tour guide or an entertainer or something. No wonder he had that silly grin on his face.

Feeling like he had no other choice, he nodded and said, “Okay.”

 

\-----

 

Courfeyrac had gotten him some sandals when he saw his pathetic attempt to hop up to the far side of the beach. Marius had been left standing in the shade, with his sore feet on bristly brown grass just to keep off the sand. And just when he was getting to be sure he was abandoned, Courfeyrac came jogging back down to him, now wearing a tight white t-shirt and looking fit to burst out of his-- Marius looked down.

“Here, try these,” Courfeyrac panted, grinning. They were flip-flops, but at least they were black. When Marius muttered his thanks, Courfeyrac just laughed. “No problem. I’d have carried you if I thought you’d let me.”

He slipped the shoes on. Courfeyrac offered to hold his umbrella. He shook his head and tried to hide deeper under it. At least he could say for one thing that once Courfeyrac had figured out his boundaries, he respected them well enough, because he seemed to back off a bit then. He must have known he’d embarrassed him. Better than his own family acted sometimes.

It was a short walk to get into town. The town around the resort land was- was it condescending to think of it as quaint? He was pretty sure he was supposed to find it quaint. The buildings were all short and almost the exact sandy-brown of the dirt roads, the color of driftwood. Splashes of bright color had been thrown up onto the walls of wood and cement, murals and signs and banners inviting him inside. And the people were friendly enough, seeing he was with Courfeyrac. Marius actually relaxed enough at one point to smile back at people. Then he remembered what he must look like to them, and he kept his eyes low.

Just about everyone they passed seemed to know Courfeyrac by name. But not the name he’d given Marius. They called out to Courfeyrac in Spanish, and he may not have spoken much, but he could understand ‘Alejo,’ which meant that he’d given Marius his last name. It all gave weight to his theory. This was Courfeyrac’s route, for the tourists, and he was keeping professional with Marius.

Even as he began to enjoy himself just the smallest amount, there was only so long he could last outside. He could feel the sun baking through his umbrella. The black canvas was radiating heat. Courfeyrac, always a couple steps ahead of him as he pointed out everything of interest, kept making sure to check over his shoulder, and realized when Marius was really starting to wilt.

“Aw, man, you don’t have any water or anything!” he exclaimed, turning on his heel and putting his hands on his hips. “Let’s stop somewhere and refresh, yeah?”

The idea was a relief, but he stopped, thought, and shook his head. “I don’t have money…”

Courfeyrac laughed again. Marius had never met someone who laughed so easily. “That’s no problem, I can cover you.”

He ushered Marius under an awning and Marius finally snapped his poor umbrella shut so he could sit down. It was pretty much empty at that time of day. Come to think of it, he hadn’t really seen tourists in town. They must mostly stay on the resort until it was cooler out. Out swimming and sunbathing and whatever. They’d stopped at a little bar sort of thing, and Courfeyrac got each of them a bottle of water and had them sit at a table next to a rotating fan.

“You should have this first before anything else,” he advised, cracking his open. “Staying hydrated is the most important thing.”

“Thanks.”

He put the water to his lips and killed half the bottle in one go. Marius just watched him, feeling like this was some kind of intimidation tactic. Sighing in relief, he swiped the back of his hand over his mouth. Then he looked expectantly at Marius until he opened his own bottle and took a sip.

Quiet came. The longer neither of them spoke, the more Marius heard. Distantly, the waves were still crashing on the shore. Under the table fan hum was the tinny sound of a radio playing upbeat music. The plastic crinkles and glass pings as the bartender set her station to order. His shoulders had relaxed, he realized. Maybe the whole ‘leaving his room’ thing had a point.

“So like, you’re kinda goth,” Courfeyrac remarked. Marius ducked his head so that fringe fell into his eyes.

“I’m not goth,” he said, hushed but extremely serious. “I’m New Wave.”

A smile stretched across Courfeyrac’s face. He put his chin in his hand and just marveled at him. Marius looked at his flip-flops and ducked his head lower. But, despite his better judgment, he lifted his eyes with just a bit of hope when Courfeyrac said, “Tell me more?”

Timidly, he mentioned his favorite band (The Cure), the last concert he’d been to (Cold Showers, but he went to a lot of concerts), and at Courfeyrac’s nodding insistence described it a bit (he’d sat towards the back of the room, on the stairs near the bar, to avoid the crowd by the stage, and it had been nice, and he’d cried).

“So you just don’t like being around many people, yeah?”

Marius nodded, resting his chin on his water bottle. “I don’t… like feeling like people are looking at me.”

“What if people like looking at you?” Courfeyrac got this look on his face that made Marius pretty sure he was being made fun of.

“I don’t think…”

“Come on man, face like that? I'm sure girls are practically crawling on you. Or, you know…”

Courfeyrac raised his brows. Marius, who didn't know, just shook his head.

“I've only dated once, and it…”

Snorting, Courfeyrac leaned closer over the table. “I'm not talking about that, obviously. Just, you know, looking. You're not exactly hard to look at.”

Over Courfeyrac's shoulder, Marius thought he saw the bartender roll her eyes. She scolded him in Spanish, and he heard ‘Alejo’ again. Courfeyrac wouldn't look back at her, but he rolled his eyes himself. Marius shrank into his chair a little.

“You don't speak Spanish, right?” Courfeyrac asked with forced casualness.

“No,” he admitted. “Just French, some German.”

Courfeyrac's eyes lit up. “ _Ben, vraiment_?”

Marius wriggled in his chair. “ _Ouais, mais_ … um, I mean...” His voice lodged in his throat, and then in a rush he managed, “I listen and read better than I speak it, is all, like I just trip over the words.”

“Aw, no pressure,” Courfeyrac said, shifting back and softening. “I just get excited. It’s like, imagine you were in Greece hanging out with German tourists and someone says they can speak English.”

“Oh? Then, you’re not… local?”

“Does ‘Courfeyrac’ sound like a Spanish name to you?”

Marius took a quick sip of his water. Courfeyrac had settled into a posture of complete relaxation, slumped against his chair with one arm thrown over the back. He had a lazy, cat in the sun smile, eyes heavy-lidded like the heat was laying on them. He looked so directly at Marius that it almost burned.

“What’s your-- I mean, what is your name?”

The content expression puckered up with a hint of confusion. “Courfeyrac.”

“I just mean, I thought I’ve heard people--”

“Alejo?” Courfeyrac scoffed. “ _Alexandre_? Hard pass. My friends call me Courfeyrac.”

His chest squeezed with jealousy at just how easily Courfeyrac had said that. He had to remind himself that it was too bad, or maybe that it didn’t matter. It wasn’t beyond his family to pay someone to be his ‘friend.’

“Hey, hey, what’s with that look?”

Marius started and looked up at him. “Sorry. I just started thinking.”

“A dangerous sport. You wanna tell me about it?”

“... No.”

Courfeyrac laughed again and Marius thought, well, regardless, he could get used to that sound.

 

\-----

 

Marius ended up hanging out with Courfeyrac the next few days; he took up so much of Marius’s time, and made it go by so fast, that he was shocked to learn that the holiday was close to half over. He was almost having fun most of the time.

Courfeyrac showed him around town, even took him to the resort once when he had to pick something up. He’d slipped into someone’s room and back out, tucking something into the waistband of his speedo and winking. It took Marius a stupidly long time to realize it was pot. What clinched it was when Courfeyrac took him up to the door of his own bungalow to get waters, and there was more than one bong sitting in full view when he stepped inside.

“I’m holding those for a friend,” Courfeyrac joked when he caught Marius eyeing them.

He was mystery after mystery. From what he could tell, the resort employees lived on resort property if they didn't live in town. Courfeyrac's accommodations had more in common with the beachfront cabins. Marius was too awkward to ask. Not like it was any of his business anyway.

The questions kept him permanently on his toes. He didn't know how to get Courfeyrac to stop. Not that it really bothered him, but it just felt weird. No matter how much he was making, Marius's banal answers must have been boring him to tears.

The first day or so, he stuck entirely to surface level topics. Movies (Marius didn't watch many), TV (same story there), books (dramas and tragedies mostly, with a sprinkle of romance), music (exhaustive). Et cetera. Then he asked about education. What was Marius studying? Where was he going to school. He'd gotten a big bright look on his face when Marius said he was at a college in New York.

“I live in New York!”

And god, didn't that just make more questions. Marius stayed politely silent, until Courfeyrac started interrogating him about his experience with the city.

The conversation worked its way around until, entirely by accident, Marius had mentioned Cosette. Her name left his lips and he realized that, for one, he'd hardly thought about her in the last days, and for another, Courfeyrac was about to make him think about her a lot again.

“She a friend?” he asked with innocent curiosity.

Marius bit his lip and shook his head. “The girl I was dating.”

With piqued interest, Courfeyrac turned to walk backwards facing him. He kicked a bit of ocean foam at him. “Well now I gotta know. The girl who stole Marius's heart.”

“We started dating in high school,” he muttered. He tried to hide deeper in the umbrella shade. “She broke up with me because she says she's a lesbian now.”

Courfeyrac snorted, which was what Marius was afraid of. He was mildly surprised when, instead of derision, Courfeyrac followed up with, “So you don't think she is?”

That one took longer to think about. His steps started to slow; Courfeyrac kept pace with him until they stopped, water running over their feet. He wanted to say, what did it matter if she was? That wasn't the problem. The problem was she'd snapped his heart across her knee.

“Hey, think of it this way.” Courfeyrac spread his arms out wide so that the hem of his shirt lifted over his hips and-- Marius snapped his eyes up. “If she was a lesbian, if you like this girl that much, you wouldn't want her to have a crappy time dating a guy, right? And if she's not a lesbian, and she just said that to break up with you, think what a crappy time she must have been having to get to that point. Right? Like, you wouldn't want to be with somebody you didn't think could make you happy.”

Marius opened his mouth, closed it, and took a moment to really think about it. Of course he didn't think Cosette was lying. She couldn't lie, not about something serious like that. And he didn't have any reason to suspect it, with Éponine in the picture. That had been a nasty shock, just from the irony. But that was maybe kind of the point. He couldn't imagine going out with Éponine. Cosette could.

“Yeah. That makes sense.”

From that point, all bets were off. Courfeyrac could get it into mind to ask about anything. Once, during a walk, Marius had turned around to find Theo tailing them from a distance for a decent quarter-mile. He’d whispered something about it to Courfeyrac. He couldn’t understand why they were being watched when Marius was _already being watched_. Courfeyrac had spun around and gone right away to give Theo a piece of his mind; Marius couldn’t hear them, but the sight of his cousin going pale under Courfeyrac’s wrath was vindicating.

Courfeyrac was still steaming when he marched back over. “What’s your cousin’s fucking problem, man?” But to explain Theo he had to explain his aunt, and to explain her, he had to explain his grandfather, and so on.

In a weird way, it was therapeutic to talk about them to someone.

“It's a hotbed of drama,” he lamented, picking at a hole in his jeans while he sat on Courfeyrac's couch. He looked up to see Courfeyrac pouring himself a thing of gin and some ugly bright lemon soda; he offered Marius one, and he declined. It was only past noon.

“Everyone hates each other in my family. I mean, my aunt and her family are the Brady bunch, but… she just takes me on these things to spite my grandfather. I've always been like, the family bargaining chip.” He affected a whiny voice- whinier than his normal register. “‘It'd be an insult to his mother's memory if you didn't enroll him in Catholic school!’ And variations on the theme.”

The glass settled on the counter with a clink. “So your mom…?”

Marius shook his head. “It was when I was a baby. It's-- it's not a big deal.”

“Shit, of course it's a big deal.”

“Technically I'm an orphan.” He cringed the moment he'd said it.

Courfeyrac's hand settled on his shoulder. “Hey. That's really rough.”

“No, like, I never knew my dad either, because of some stupid, legal whatever. It doesn't matter.” He scrubbed his hands over his eyes.

Squeeze. “I'm gonna get you a drink.”

“No, thank you.”

But just as often, Courfeyrac would try to invest him in some activity. He didn’t want Marius just moping around and talking, when there were things to do. Clearly, he wasn’t getting paid to let Marius sit on his butt. _‘That’s the point of a vacation! To try new things!’_ After some badgering, he managed to get Marius to take a bus with some other tourists out into the rainforest for a hike. He got a chance to wear his canvas shoes instead of flip-flops for once.

They got up close to a waterfall. The foliage pressing up around them and echoing with the roaring water felt fantastical, like preparing to step into another world. Marius had wanted to stick his hand under, but he was sure that wasn’t allowed. At least Courfeyrac let them both hang back from the crowd. Marius caught Courfeyrac watching him, and asked if he wasn’t impressed with the tour.

“If you’ve seen one waterfall, you’ve seen ‘em all,” he’d said.

 

\-----

 

“I’ve never been swimming in the ocean,” Marius confessed later that day, after being harangued for something he’d want to try on the island.

Courfeyrac looked like Marius had given him a gift. “That’s perfect!”

“No-- I can’t--”

“You can’t swim?”

“No, I can swim.” He folded his arms tight and hunched over them. “I only have one bathing suit and it’s embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing how?”

He kicked the floor of the tour bus and hissed when he scraped his toe. He checked to make sure he wasn’t bleeding before he answered. “It’s just embarrassing. I don’t want to be seen in it.”

Courfeyrac was quiet for a while, and then snapped his fingers. “We’ll just swim at night!”

Marius blinked. “Can we do that? Aren’t there like, tides?”

“I’m lifeguard certified, man, it’s fine! And how many people get to say they went swimming in the ocean, at night, in the Caribbean?”

He snuck out his window that night, instead of risking the front door. He could hear the rest of them watching a movie and drinking politely. He was in the terrible shorts, and had a big towel wrapped around himself; he stumbled over it a bit as he was clambering out, but he managed to get to Courfeyrac without incident.

It was better at night. The ocean air was almost biting, the sand was cool. Things were still. The world felt crouching, undead, dead-eyed. There weren’t any kids around or anything, or other tourists wandering down away from the lifeguards. He was alone. And then, of course, Courfeyrac was there.

“I’m nervous,” he whispered.

“Don’t be. I’ve done this loads of times.”

He shook his head. It was never just that. He didn’t know how he could possibly explain it to someone who had never been scared in his life. Courfeyrac didn’t even bother to keep his voice down at a time like this. How could he understand?

Marius opened his towel to reveal them: baggy, yellow swim trunks, trimmed with cerulean. In the dark and the moonlight, they looked a more palatable color, practically dark. Not ideal, but not so insulting. Courfeyrac squinted at them and looked back up at him.

“They’re just yellow, man.”

He hunched himself up and plopped down on the sand. “Yeah, and I don’t like it.”

“What is with your attitude?” Courfeyrac’s tone made his hackles rise.

“I don’t have an attitude.”

Courfeyrac made a noise in his throat and sat down next to him. “Look, you already left your place. You might as well get in the water if you came all the way out here. You’re supposed to be having fun.”

“I don’t need someone else pushing me around and telling me I’m wasting my life.”

“What? What are you talking about? If you don’t want to--”

“I wasn’t done.” His voice was coming thick. “You talk so _much_.”

Courfeyrac’s jaw tightened visibly and Marius had to steel himself just to keep looking at him. He pulled the towel tight over his shoulders.

“Nobody,” he began, swallowing around the choking feeling, “can ever pay enough to make me normal.”

For the first time, Courfeyrac looked at him like he was stupid.

“Okay, like...” He trailed off and crossed one leg over the other. His voice had more than one note of derision. “What do you think I’m doing here? On the island.”

“You’re like a private… tour type person. And my aunt--”

Courfeyrac cut him off with an obnoxious imitation of a game show buzzer. “Wrong. I don’t fucking do anything.”

Marius blinked hard.

“Man, this is my fucking vacation too.”

“But you-- everybody--”

“Everybody knows me? Yeah, ‘cause I come here every fucking summer, ‘cause my parents own the fucking resort.”

Marius gawped at him, unable to do anything else. Courfeyrac continued, “I figured you knew- like, I even said I'm not a local. Why the hell did you think I was hanging out with you all this time?”

He looked down and dragged his fingers in the sand and studied the patterns the wind had beaten it into. He genuinely considered getting up and running away. “I thought it was your job.”

Courfeyrac laughed harshly. His hands were white-knuckle tight. “Nah, man,” he said, voice surprisingly snotty, “I don’t work. I'm a trust fund baby, just like you.”

He flushed, indignant, and started to stammer, “That's-- you know that's not how-- my family didn't--”

“Yeah, you know what, I do know. I know basically everything about you, and you don't even know who I am, because you never even asked.”

Courfeyrac wasn't shouting but he might as well have been. That was okay. Marius could deal with shouting pretty well, he was used to shouting. He stayed very still, like Courfeyrac was a predator that could only see movement. He could breathe and barely make a sound, barely move any part of his body. His throat closed up, like that would make it easier.

“Ugh.” Courfeyrac threw a handful of sand down towards the water. White particles scattered down the beach like the tail of a comet. “I shouldn’t lose my temper. I know you’re having a hard time.”

Marius was getting dizzy, and caught his breath in a deep gasp and deeper sigh. His fringe flopped in his eyes.

“No, it’s okay. I’m a loser.”

“Shut up.” He hadn’t totally lost the edge in his voice. “I mean, you’re on a shitty vacation, but you’re not a leper or anything. What would your friends say?”

Like it should be obvious, Marius said, “I don’t have any friends.”

“So you’re a loser?”

Without thinking twice, Marius nodded. For a minute they sat quietly under the ambience of the waves and the half full moon. His trunks didn't look dark at all, really. He had been kidding himself. Courfeyrac pushed his shoulder lightly, and the touch left his skin hot even through layers of fabric.

“Well, you're my loser now. Right?”

Marius looked at him out of the corner of his eye, and he really, really couldn't figure him out sometimes.

“I’m not a charity case.”

“Did I say you were?”

“It just feels like--” Marius bit his lip hard, mortified at how obviously misty he was getting. This was why he couldn’t make friends.

Courfeyrac slid a hand through his hair, leaving it even more artfully messy. God, Marius realized, he probably didn’t even style it. He really didn’t need to make an effort at anything, did he?

“You want me to be totally honest?” Courfeyrac asked with a sardonic little tilt to his mouth. Marius nodded. “I’ve been trying to pull you from the moment we met.”

He blinked a few times. “Pardon?”

Courfeyrac barked out a short laugh and baldly said, “I’ve been trying to get you to have sex with me.”

Marius felt his face heat up, and he slapped both his hands over as much skin as possible to keep the blush hidden. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” he croaked.

His tone was snotty again, like Theo’s, like every shitty kid who’d ever shoved him in the back. “I mean if it was, it clearly didn’t work.”

“I’m straight _, Alex_.”

“Oh, come on, dude, you have the biggest vibes--”

“Oh my god. This isn't happening.” His throat was starting to close up again, and he fought it with deep breaths through his nose.

He hugged the towel around himself, hid his face in it, made the stitches squeak as he sunk his nails against them. In a sudden burst of anxious energy, he pushed himself to his feet.

“I need to go home right now.”

Courfeyrac, when he looked back, looked helpless. “Do you want me to walk you back?”

The words had barely gotten out when Marius said, “No, thank you.”

He kicked off his sandals and ran back towards the cabin.

 

\-----

 

Marius finally got the cabin to himself. Everyone else had gone out to the beach, so he'd taken the liberty of moving his pity party out of his room and into the kitchen. He had his bare feet up on the counter and a beaten copy of _Doctor Zhivago_ in his hand. It felt like he never read anymore. Even if so very much of this trip was a wash, he could at least do something that felt worthwhile.

Someone knocked. Marius pulled his face out of the book. His cousin or his aunt or any of his relatives wouldn't have bothered knocking; they'd have just come bursting in, nevermind the peace he'd cultivated. But he didn't think they were expecting any guests either. Frowning, he unfolded himself from his seat and went for the door.

Courfeyrac stood smiling too widely on the stoop. A sizable canvas bag was in his arms.

“Is it too late now to say sorry?” he asked, a little more hesitant than Marius had ever heard him, but also, he was pretty sure that was a line from a pop song by the way he said it.

“Uh,” said Marius.

“Can I come in?” He looked-- it was uncharitable to say desperate. Over eager was bad too. His eyes were urgently large and a little sad. “I have something to say, and I'd like to put this stuff down too.”

Marius shuffled to the side to let him through. His better judgement told him this was kind of a dumb move, but even his better judgement was helpless against those big dark eyes.

Courfeyrac delicately set the bag on the floor and started rifling through it. He emerged with a bundle of black something. He wrung it in his hands.

“I was a huge asshole. I said some stuff that was out of line because I was lashing out. It's something I need to work on.”

When Marius failed to react, he stepped forward and held the loose bundle out. He had been keeping his gaze low, and half pretending not to see him. Eventually, as Courfeyrac got closer, he took it just to keep it from being pressed into his arms. It felt like athletic material.

“They're swim leggings,” he explained, far too earnestly, “like for a modesty bathing suit. So like, in case you wanted to go swimming, you don't have to wear those yellow things. Uh, so you can swim during the day.”

He unfolded the leggings and looked at them. They looked like his size. Undeterred by silence, Courfeyrac barreled onwards. “And I thought, if you'd be okay with it, I packed up some stuff for if you want to go swimming now, to try them out?”

“... Thanks.”

Marius was starting to sweat him out, and even though he knew it was wrong, he couldn’t help liking it. Served him right, just a bit. Courfeyrac was starting to sag.

“Aw, man.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. Now that Marius was looking at him, he noticed stubble on his normally clean-shaven face. He was overdressed, too- t-shirt and trunks down to the knee. He ground his teeth and squished up his face in agony before he managed to keep going. “Look. I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry. I was angry and deflecting, and I don’t hang out with you just because I’m attracted to you. That was a genuinely terrible thing to say.”

He let out his breath, and tension he didn’t know he’d been holding melted out of his shoulders. “I’m sorry too. I acted like… a spoiled brat.”

Courfeyrac put his hands on his hips and followed suit with a big breath of relief. “I think we’re both spoiled brats.”

“So, are you still…?”

“I mean, I'll be real,” Courfeyrac said with a shrug, “I'm never not gonna want to bang you, you're a goddamn masterpiece. But, I mean, it's not gonna kill me if you never want that, I'll still want to hang out. You're a huge dork, and it's like, nice to be dorky with you. I'm… I was trying to say the other night. I'm a loser too, Marius. So like, let's be losers?”

He wasn't sure if he was more embarrassed or pleased. He smiled and squeezed the swim leggings to his body. “Okay. I’ll go put these on.”

The material was a bit of a pain to wrestle on, basically spandex. Not that he’d ever worn spandex either. And once it was on, it was… He shuffled out of the bathroom, hardly knowing what to do with his legs, and Courfeyrac clapped.

“It’s kinda tight…”

“It’s supposed to be tight. It’ll get more comfortable once you’re moving around in them, once you’re in the water you’ll forget you’re wearing anything.”

He thought about being naked in the ocean, and felt even more awkward. Courfeyrac didn't seem to notice.

“Oh!” He was hauling Marius to the door when he stopped and set the bag down again. He pulled out the flip-flops Marius had left behind the other night. “It’s hot out there! Plus like, gotta complete the ensemble.”

That somehow pulled a laugh out of him, and Courfeyrac beamed.

The moment the door was opened, Marius cringed at the direct sunlight on his forearms and neck. “Do you have sunblock?”

“Yeah, in the bag,” Courfeyrac called over his shoulder. “Beach umbrella too, I know you'll want the shade. And I grabbed your book, in case you get bored of swimming and just wanna hang out.”

“You're kind of a mom friend.”

For maybe the first time, Courfeyrac looked genuinely taken aback. Marius looked down and blinked hard a few times.

“That was really honest,” he said as he dropped his bag on a patch of white sand that he deemed acceptable. He didn't sound angry or offended or anything. Impressed, if anything, was how Marius would be forced to describe it.

“I can be honest.”

Courfeyrac made quick work of setting up camp, even with Marius getting in his way trying to help. He unrolled a couple of massive beach blankets, wedged the umbrella deep in the sand and propped it up with the bag. Marius slicked down with sunblock. There were voices echoing all down the shore this time of day. Down the beach, he could see his aunt’s family milling around in their chairs, and Theo scraping his feet along the waterline looking for rocks and shells. They were far enough away that maybe they wouldn’t recognize him. If they did, with any luck, they’d leave the two of them alone.

Marius hopped down to the edge of the water without his sandals, and took a moment to nurse his soles on the wet sand while Courfeyrac caught up with him.

“You ever been in a wave pool or anything?”

Marius shook his head ‘no.’ “Aw, that’s alright. You just gotta get used to the rhythm for a bit. The ocean won’t hurt you if you know how to move with it.”

He didn't expect the water to be so warm. Not after a few inches deep, at least. But he barely got goosebumps. It was nice. The water rolled up to greet him as he stepped deeper, cradling him from below once he was deep enough to lift his feet off the sand. He let out his breath and squeezed his eyes shut and sank below the next wave. When he kicked back up out of the water, dark wet hair was streaming down over his eyes. He treaded water in lazy kicks. Courfeyrac had been right. He couldn't feel the leggings so much at all anymore.

Turning to him, he found Courfeyrac just staring. He laughed, sounding a little nervous.

“What's funny?”

“Nothing. I just didn't think you'd take to it so fast.”

Marius smiled so softly. “My grandfather has an in-ground pool. It's… the only exercise I ever liked doing.”

Courfeyrac’s grin turned elfin cheeky. “Do you wear shorts in the home pool?”

He accidentally splashed water into his face as he flung his hands up to cover it. Both of them dissolved into laughter.

Swimming was the best time he’d had in a week- in months. Sometimes Courfeyrac stuck near him, chattering, or just swimming alongside him nicely. A few times, Marius drifted away, swimming out towards some sandbar he thought he could see rising up under the water, or a smatter of tidepools. Courfeyrac let him go. He sat on the rocks for a bit and fiddled around with a few timid hermit crabs in pretty white shells, until he could get them to walk around on his hand. And when Marius had his fill of exploring, he drifted on back.

The water kept the sun from being too unbearable, but even so, Marius didn’t have the stamina to go forever. He crawled out on his front until he got too close to shore and he was forced to put his feet under himself and splash his way onto the sand to keep from being smacked onto it. Turning, he saw Courfeyrac following him.

“You don’t have to!” He brushed moppy wet hair out of his eyes. “You were having fun.”

“There’s such a thing as too much fun.” Courfeyrac went to slap him on the back, and drew his hand away at the last moment. “I’m hungry anyway.”

Humming in agreement, Marius stumbled towards their setup. A few stray seagulls were wandering around in the white sand, and Courfeyrac charged at them for a few paces and laughed and skidded as they flew off. Marius rubbed his face with the back of his hand. It was sore from smiling.

Courfeyrac advised him to reapply his sunscreen as he fixed up the sandwiches. Both of them needed it, but especially Marius, whose skin was already pink where the lotion had washed away. He’d brought a big container of pineapple and melon along with the sandwiches. Marius hurriedly slapped the sunscreen on and wiped his hands on his towel so he could get into the fruit. He was about to pop the lid off when Courfeyrac stopped him.

“Hey, I appreciate your enthusiasm. But, real quick, can you get my shoulders and stuff?”

Marius went very still, and they exchanged a look. Tension had dropped down from the sky as heavy and hard to miss as an airplane turbine. Courfeyrac forced a chuckle and waved his hand.

“Hey, you know what, I got it--”

“No, I don’t mind. I just… really want to get some fruit.”

“I mean, if that’s… It’ll still be there in like, two seconds.”

Hesitantly, he set the bowl aside. Moved behind Courfeyrac with the bottle of lotion in hand. He squirted a big dollop onto his palm and immediately wished he’d done it directly onto Courfeyrac’s skin, so he wouldn’t be rubbing his whole hand all over him. But it was too late to start over now and waste the sunblock, so he spread it over his hands and gingerly placed them on Courfeyrac’s shoulders. He could feel goosebumps break out on his friend’s skin.

“‘S cold,” Courfeyrac said right away.

“Sorry.”

His head felt ready to pop off his neck. He had stopped thinking about how his family were just a ways down the shore, but now he was acutely aware of it, and the fact that they could at any moment be looking at the two of them.

“That should be good.”

He yanked his hands away and wiped them self-consciously on his wet leggings. Courfeyrac’s blush wasn’t as visible as his own, but it was there, and it made him feel guilty. Of course it was just as bad for Courfeyrac as it was for him- probably worse. Scooting around him on the big blanket, he grabbed a little plate and shoveled chunks of fruit onto it. Courfeyrac offered him a sandwich. Marius shook his head. Not right now. He just wanted some fruit.

He sprawled out on one side of the blanket. Courfeyrac sat up on another. The exertion from swimming seemed to catch up with them all at once, and Marius at least preserved his energy by eating and staring at the horizon. Out in the way-off distance, he could see the smudge of a passing ship.

“Hey,” Courfeyrac said, looking at his half-eaten sandwich. “I’m sorry. I feel like I can’t say it enough. I was such a jackoff.”

“I promise I’m over it. I overreacted.”

“You didn’t! And-- I’m not over it.” Bite, chew, swallow. “I turned into like, high school me. Ugh, worse, middle school me. God, if we’d met when I was in middle school you’d hate me.” Another bite, more aggressive. “I would have fucking tormented you.”

“I got that impression, yeah.”

“God. Alex de Courfeyrac, mean gay prep. I mean, bi, but whatever, nobody believed in that shit in high school.”

Marius laughed lightly. “I was so quiet in high school I didn’t even make the yearbook superlative for quietest kid.”

Courfeyrac shook his head. “Yeah. I just felt, I don’t know, rejected? And I acted like a clown’s ass about it.”

He wanted to say that he felt rejected too, but instead he said, “I’m sorry.”

They picked at their food in comfortable silence. Marius paused with a piece of honeydew halfway to his lips. If Courfeyrac felt rejected, it was because he felt like Marius didn’t want to know him.

“Why did your parents buy a resort?” he blurted. “I mean… is that their business?”

Glancing over in surprise, Courfeyrac settled on his stomach with his plate in front of him. With the angle of the sun over their umbrella, Courfeyrac’s head was bathed in light. “Mom wanted a vacation home somewhere hot, and Spanish speaking, so she could go somewhere nice in the winter. Like, I feel like I should feel weird about it, and I definitely do, but it’s not like I can make them sell it, and if I did it would just be someone else owning it? No ethical consumption under capitalism I guess. They used to take me down with them for the holidays, but now I do like, a month or so in summer before I have to go back for classes.”

“So they’re in New York while you’re here?”

“Ugh, yeah, they babysit my apartment so my friends can’t squat there. Like, it’s not a timeshare, ma!” He bit vengefully down on the last corner of his sandwich and worked it over for a bit. With his mouth full, he admitted, “I mean, they pay for it, but they pay for me to do what I want with it.”

“Maybe I’ll come visit.”

“I’d love that.”

Asking questions felt nice. Learning about Courfeyrac felt nice. Courfeyrac was definitely more verbose than Marius usually was, on literally any topic, but that was good too, the way he could fill the air. He tried to apologize for saying he talked too much, but Courfeyrac laughed it off and said well, it was true.

“But as long as you don’t mind, it’s okay.” He didn’t mind.

Marius asked offhandedly about languages. Courfeyrac listed the steps off on his fingers. “So my mom is Catalan, but she moved to France with this rich asshole-- that was my dad-- and I grew up there, and then we moved to America when I was in middle school, so I basically was raised quadrilingual.”

If Marius hadn’t been resting his head in his hand, his jaw would have dropped open. “Oh wow.”

He shrugged and looked away. “I mean they’re basically all the same language so that’s probably pretty dull.”

“No!” He covered his mouth immediately- he hadn’t meant to be that loud. His face was getting hot, especially as Courfeyrac turned back towards him, but he persisted. “Any kind of multilingualism is pretty amazing, when you think about it. Even if the grammar is similar, your brain has to like, restructure itself and recode itself to store information in that other language, and there’s always going to be subtle like… like, cultural cues and pragmatics and things that go into being fluent that you build into your language knowledge. And then…”

He caught Courfeyrac staring at him and blinked like he could hide behind it. “Sorry,” Marius muttered.

Courfeyrac shook his head and settled his head on his folded arms. The sun caught in his dark eyes and his dark hair and made them glimmer. It had the same effect on his skin, like the ocean salt was making little crystals on him as it dried that were catching the light.

“You like languages.”

“... Yeah.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Yeah.” He dug his toes into the sand. “What language do you think in?”

Courfeyrac took a second to think about it. “Right now I’m talking to you in English, so I guess English at the moment? I kinda take it for granted.”

“That must be-- I mean, you’re used to it, but I think that’s amazing.” The warmth and his full stomach and the rhythm of the ocean were making him drowsy. He blinked long and slow. “I signed up for the German minor, at my university. I’m outside the best timeframe to learn, but, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll add Spanish, to try and catch up with you.”

Marius folded his arms and pillowed his head on them like Courfeyrac was doing. His shoulders didn’t hurt. His heart wasn’t going at it. Or, it hadn’t been, until Courfeyrac gave him a long, slow blink in return, infinitely soft. All at once, it picked up double-time.

 

\-----

 

‘Oh no,’ he thought periodically throughout the next day. ‘I’m leaving in four days, and I have a crush on Courfeyrac.’

He’d only ever had feelings for one other person in his life, and he’d taken more than a year to even speak to her. So, naturally, he reacted to this kind of sudden deadline by hiding in his room for an entire day. He could barely read, and didn’t come out to eat. He mostly just obsessed over the situation. Briefly, he’d considered that maybe this was his Cosette feelings getting all mixed up, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t like that at all. The only thing in common was their eyes. And he liked a lot more about Courfeyrac than that.

In the evening, his aunt came in and was shocked to see him sitting in the dark with his head against the wall.

“Have you been in here all day?” Marius didn’t answer. “I thought you went out earlier with that friend of yours!”

Marius groaned and let himself sag over on the bed. “No.”

“And why not?”

He couldn’t tell her ‘I’m avoiding him,’ or, more accurately, ‘I can’t look someone I want to kiss in the face,’ so he just limply dragged a blanket over his head.

“We’re not going to be here forever. Why don’t you go out with Theo?”

And because ‘why don’t you’ was never a suggestion, Marius climbed out of bed in yesterday’s jeans. He grabbed his phone before he left. Theo would let him read while he drank, or whatever he did.

And then Courfeyrac was just  _there_. Of course he was there. Right across from Theo’s bar of choice, sitting in the windowsill of a shop with a cigarette in his hand and laughing along to a story some girl was telling him. Marius ran into Theo’s back in his rush to get inside the establishment and hide himself before he could be noticed.

Theo left him at a table and came back with two drinks. Marius tried to protest. Theo said that if Marius wouldn’t drink it, then he would when he finished his. “But if nothing else, you might act like less of a spaz.”

As much as he hated to admit it, he thought, Theo might have a point. He only had three days, if he didn’t talk to Courfeyrac tonight. The less time he had, the less likely it was to happen. He had to rip it off like a bandaid.

Courfeyrac was still there across the street when he slipped out. He was still smoking- it had to be a new cigarette by then.

Marius touched the back of his hand, and when Courfeyrac met his eyes the smile he gave could have powered every tacky festival light in town. He immediately put out his cigarette. “Hey! I didn’t see you all day!”

“Can I talk to you?”

His expression shifted to concern, and he hopped down off the windowsill. Marius led him around to the back, where they couldn’t be seen from the street. Then he fidgeted. Looked down at his feet and up at Courfeyrac. He wished he had something to lean on that would maybe keep the world a little steadier under him.

“Hey, is something wrong?”

Marius shook his head. “No, just. God, this is so embarrassing.”

Courfeyrac came right up to him, downright worried, and took him by the wrist. He flushed so hot he might well be steaming in the cool night.

“Please, I promise it’s okay. But, um.” He took a deep breath. “You know how you said, um, that you were attracted to me? And that you wanted to…”

It took a second, but the gears clicked into place. Courfeyrac grinned at him, those romantic eyes all dark and close. Courfeyrac would get anything he ever wanted, forever, as long as he kept giving people that look. Marius’s vision swayed, like the intensity had rocked him. He was stumbling around for his first steps.

“Do you wanna kiss me, straight boy?”

Mouth formed into a decided pout, he nodded. Courfeyrac closed the distance and wow. He was soft.

And just as quickly, he pulled back, looking extremely vexed. “You’re fucking drunk,” he declared. The fun little tease had all gone out of his voice.

Shamed, Marius nodded. He should have chewed some gum or something… Courfeyrac made a sound he could only describe as a growl, putting his hands in his hair and mussing it so that it actually looked unkempt. He walked in a quick, agitated circle and came around to face Marius again with a scowl.

“You know,” he started, gesturing damningly with a pointed finger, “I got a friend who does that exact fucking thing, and I fall for it every fucking time. God dammit.”

“I'm sorry,” he said, unsure what else he could say. “I didn't mean to… I mean…”

Courfeyrac took a deep breath and put his hands on his hips like he was grounding himself. “Yeah. You're nervous.”

“I've barely kissed anyone before,” Marius continued, trying not to stumble over himself too hard. The alcohol was getting to him a little, because he was misting up. “But I just really like hanging out with you and I didn't want to be a big stupid weird mess for you. I don't want to be-- I'm so awkward and boring--”

“Marius, you’re the least boring person I know.” His tone was dismissive, maybe a bit hard, but his expression was getting less thorny. “C’mere.”

Marius just about stumbled into him. He wasn’t _that_ drunk, but his legs were weak. Courfeyrac wrapped his arms around him and hugs were unfamiliar but heavenly. A few tears and a single little hiccup squeezed out of him before he calmed down. Sturdy hands rubbed his back.

“Thank you.” His fingers wrapped up in Courfeyrac’s t-shirt.

“Ugh, you cute little dumbass.”

Marius huffed. “That’s not… I’m not cute.”

“You’re the cutest, man.” Courfeyrac gave him a squeeze and then pulled back to look at him. “Come over to my place?”

When Marius immediately began to stammer, he laughed and corrected: “Just crash there. I don’t want you to have to deal with your folks like this.”

Well. That sounded fair enough.

 

\-----

 

Marius woke too warm. He was sticky in his old clothes, sweaty and gross and grimy feeling. He scrunched up his nose. Someone toyed with his hair. He opened his eyes and there was Courfeyrac, eyes as warm as Marius felt- nearly melting, almost uncomfortable. But maybe kind of content because of the discomfort? It was complicated.

“Hey,” Courfeyrac said, and his just-woken-up voice was low and rusty, like hazelnut in coffee. Marius felt himself flush, and he was positive it was visible.

“Oh,” he squeaked back. “Hey.”

“You were a little tipsy, huh.”

“I’m sober now.”

There was a foot of space between them on the bed and Courfeyrac shuffled closer. His presence could drown Marius. “Do you still want to kiss me?”

“I… yeah, but my breath--”

Apparently he didn’t care about breath quality, or maybe it wasn’t so bad, because Courfeyrac leaned in and just did it. Just as soft as the night before. Courfeyrac’s lips were so full and felt so good against his, that god must have designed him for kissing. Courfeyrac pressed in harder and Marius’s toes curled. You know what, he thought, maybe Cosette had the right idea.

It took all of a second for Courfeyrac to roll him onto his back. He went limp like a damsel, and Courfeyrac pressed their bodies together, stem to stern. Sometimes kissing felt hungry. He hadn’t thought about how sensitive mouths were; when teeth nicked his lip it was a shock. A nice one, though. Courfeyrac didn’t touch him in any untoward kind of way, but when they got hard against one another’s thighs he didn’t back away either. Until suddenly he did. Raising himself up on his elbows and knees, he looked down with his eyes still full to the brim with ‘kiss me.’

“Come back to New York with me?”

Marius felt like his eyes grew two sizes, and he blinked hard a few times. “Oh.”

“Shit, I mean, I don’t wanna--”

“No, no!” Marius grabbed Courfeyrac’s wrist, and they both got quiet. He bit his lip and looked down. “It sounds nice.”

Courfeyrac slipped his hand out, down, until their fingers were touching, and he entwined them together. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Glancing back up, Courfeyrac was smiling at him more fondly than he thought anyone might have ever looked at him. His heart leaned towards his radiance like a sunflower. “Would… would I get to make out with you every day?”

Courfeyrac’s laugh turned into a snort on the way out. He choked out, “You are such a dork!” but couldn’t help sounding delighted.

“How is that dorky?”

He lifted their hands up to kiss Marius on the knuckles. “You really liked it that much? That’s your condition, and not, like, sex?”

Blush trailed all the way down to Marius’s collarbones. “I don’t know, I mean. I don’t know. I’m not super interested in that, I guess.”

“Marius, you literally have a boner right now?”

“Okay, but I wasn’t thinking about it!” He folded his arms over his hips. “I just figured at some point we’d stop.”

Courfeyrac made a soft noise, practically a coo, and it would be condescending if he didn’t dip his head to press their cheeks together. “It’s okay if you don’t want sex.”

“I don’t… _not_ want it? I don’t know, this is complicated, I never had to worry about this before.”

Courfeyrac nibbled on his earlobe and a shudder went through him. “Well. Since you’re already hard, do you think we could try something?”

“Yes.” His eagerness almost spoiled Courfeyrac’s composure, but he held the laughter down admirably. Marius blinked rapidly. “That’s the point of a vacation, is to try new things.”

Lingering with his mouth over Marius’s pulse for a moment, Courfeyrac slithered down so he could kneel between his knees. He undid the button and peeled his pants away, slowly and from the waist down. When they were low enough, he tugged them off and let them fall where they may on the bed. His hands glided up and back down, coaxing Marius into spreading his legs. A kiss to the side of his knee, then straightening his leg out to kiss the inside of it. Marius gave a ticklish little wriggle. Courfeyrac’s mouth trailed higher, and he ducked down and let his kisses turn open-mouthed.

Marius tried to clandestinely shove a pillow over his face, but Courfeyrac stopped and whined at him. “Marius, come on! What’s the point if I can’t see your face?”

He retreated from his shelter just enough to be heard clearly. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“You’re not gonna die,” Courfeyrac said, rolling his eyes. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”

He clamped the pillow back down and muttered, “I’d like to…”

“You’d like to what, babe?”

“You’re such a dick!” He dropped the pillow off to the side and assumed a pout. “I’d like to… do… this.”

“I can make that work.”

His briefs were arranged just enough to expose him, and at that point he had to look up at the ceiling or he’d lose his mind with embarrassment. Courfeyrac’s hands were soft, his fingers short, and he stroked Marius with quick confidence. Working him up. He rucked up Marius’s shirt to mouth at his navel, down to his prominent hipbones. His hand stilled when Marius started to squirm. Blush had taken over every inch of skin above his chest. His toes were already curled into the sheets.

Courfeyrac’s mouth sank down over him and he had to hold his breath and fight not to finish immediately. It didn’t help for very long. His whole body was rushing hot, it felt like the way pink looked and for a second he finally got the appeal of colors other than black.

He lay there panting for a few moments. It occurred to him that Courfeyrac hadn’t pulled back at all, which meant he had swallowed around him. He would have hidden his face again if he hadn’t been so exhausted. He just needed a day to sleep off the last week and a half. Courfeyrac tugged his underwear back up around his hips and let the elastic snap against his skin.

Flopping down next to him with a smirk, Courfeyrac asked, “And now how do you feel about it?”

Marius laughed awkwardly and curled his knees up. His skin was still tingling. “I’ll admit, that was-- really great. Um.”

“... But?”

“But even if nothing like that ever happened again, I’d still want to move in with you and make out and stuff. And, you know, just hang out. And I’d be happy with that. Does that make sense?”

Courfeyrac dropped his face into a pillow and groaned. “Yes, and it's adorable!”

Marius shoved at him with his foot. “It’s not adorable, it’s dorky.”

They prodded at each other, alternating between hurried kissing and playful shoves and half-swallowed bits of banter. They had managed to sit up off their elbows, leaning on the headboard. Courfeyrac bumped against his hip. Marius looked down.

He covered his face with both hands. Rushing to comfort him, Courfeyrac pulled the covers in a mound over his crotch. “Oh dude, don't even worry, I'm not-- I don't expect--”

“It's okay,” he insisted, muffled by his hands. “Your… it always embarrasses me. It’s too big, and it makes me embarrassed.”

Courfeyrac gently pulled his hands down and put an equally gentle kiss on him. With a sigh, he relaxed into it. Before it could warm up much again, Courfeyrac drew back and murmured, “Can I?”

He nodded. One of Courfeyrac’s hands slid down over his hip, and then under the blankets he’d piled on. A harsh breath left him. Marius felt his skin prickle and he was shamefully positive that under other circumstances he would have gotten hard just from the look on his face, or the sound of his gasp. Marius darted in for another kiss. They moved closer, and the blankets slid down in the shuffle. The back of Courfeyrac’s hand bumped against his thigh.

They broke for a second while Courfeyrac caught snatches of breath; Marius couldn’t help but flick his eyes down, not catching much more than movement and jitters in his stomach. Courfeyrac grinned at him. His hand slowed.

“Close. Do you want to try?”

Unable to find his voice, Marius just breathed the word ‘okay.’ Courfeyrac had to reach up and lead his hand down. His eyes closed as he let Marius feel over him with the pads of his fingers. He pressed his hand around Marius’s, to shape his palm around him.

“That help your nerves?” he teased, voice hitching as Marius took the initiative and moved his hand. He still couldn’t work his throat around the words, even if he’d known what words he wanted to say, so Marius just kissed him.

Courfeyrac made a noise that made his head spin, and then sighed and stretched and hummed. Marius leaned over him to grab a tissue to wipe his hand off. Courfeyrac took advantage of the position by nipping at his jaw. He stuck his tongue out, still half sprawled across his lap.

Raising his brows, he held out his messy hand. “Oh, you wanna taste?”

Marius snorted and clapped a hand over his mouth. “That’s disgusting!”

Courfeyrac gave him a condescending look as he grabbed the tissue. “I’ll have you know, cum is chemically sterile.”

“I don’t think that’s true. I think you made that up.”

He rolled his eyes and wiped his hand clean, sighing, “Whatever. My diet is super healthy anyway.”

Courfeyrac wrapped his arms around him, and for a second Marius tensed up before he settled. The tissue ended up somewhere on the floor.

“You’d really like… just move in with me?” His voice was small and sensitive.

Marius brought his arms up under Courfeyrac’s and hugged him so tightly. “Yeah.”

“Even though we literally met, like--”

“Yes!” Marius laughed out. Courfeyrac picked up the laughter like he couldn’t help himself, and peppered the skin around his mouth with feathery kisses.

“Okay.”

With a kiss to his nose, Courfeyrac hopped out of bed and grabbed his phone off the charger. His boxers rode low and showed off the top of his butt. Marius said so casually, and was gratified when Courfeyrac snorted again. He dialed someone and leaned on his desk while he waited for them to pick up.

“Yo,” he said in a droll tone Marius had never heard him use. “I wake you?”

He laughed and turned back to face Marius. “No, I get that. Hey-- bad news bro. Uh, you can’t move in with me, I’m getting a real roommate. No. No, yeah, I’m in love with him. Hey, Marius, he wants to say hi.”

The phone was unceremoniously shoved in his face, and Marius, with a pained look said, “Um. Hi?”

He heard a low voice, modulated through the speaker, say, “You lucky bastard,” before Courfeyrac yanked the phone away again.

“He’s adorable. It comes through better in person.”

The words finally processed and he croaked, “You’re in love with me?”

“Yeah, I thought it was obvious,” he replied with a flip little smile. He hung up the phone and dumped himself back into bed.

“I’ve been head over heels for you since we first met. Like, full on cartoon hearts swirling around me.”

“No! You’re making fun of me.”

Courfeyrac pinned both arms around Marius’s head and hovered over him. “I’m serious.”

It felt serious. There was nothing he could say. He tilted his chin up and kissed him again.

Another session of fooling around commenced, and it was still awesome. They finally dragged away from each other when Courfeyrac looked at the time and said, “Oh shit, we never told your folks where you went, they’re gonna flip.”

Marius flopped back against the bed and whined and wrapped his arms around Courfeyrac’s neck, and aside from making him laugh and earning a few more kisses for his efforts, it didn’t do much for him. Courfeyrac grabbed fresh clothes and openly changed in front of him. He seemed to expect Marius to be doing the same, but he sat and watched instead. Courfeyrac turned over his shoulder and winked.

“‘I’d be fine if we never had sex again,’ my ass,” he teased. “I’ll wait outside to give you some maidenly privacy. Just put your damn pants on.”

Instead of getting his pants, Marius couldn't resist going over to Courfeyrac's dresser. He doubted Courfeyrac would mind if he borrowed something to avoid wearing those jeans for the third day in a row.

He rifled through the clothes until he found something that made his eyes light up. They’d be kind of wide on him, but-- he could imagine walking into the cabin in full view of the family, adorned in a rainbow flag. It was just Courfeyrac’s style of doing things, a little confrontational, a little untouchable. He stepped into them and had to pull the drawstring very tight around his skinny hips.

He got in front of a mirror. The shorts stopped around mid-thigh, shorter than even the yellow trunks. And they were, well, bright. But it could be a good look. He let his arms fall casually so that his fingers brushed the bare skin exposed under the high hem. Pressed his hands flat against his thighs, turned around to look at his butt for a moment before he immediately got embarrassed and turned back front-ways. He took a deep breath.

With a quick couple knocks to announce himself, Marius slid out of the bedroom. Courfeyrac was propped up on his kitchen counter, browsing his phone, and when he gave Marius his attention he seemed around as shocked as Marius had been expecting.

“So.” He tugged on the edge of his t-shirt. “How is it?”

Courfeyrac leaned his chin in his hand and looked Marius up and down. “You look, uh. Uncomfortable.”

“Yeah,” Marius sighed, looking down at his skinny legs and the too-big tacky rainbow thing he’d thrown over them.

“Go put your pants back on.”

“Okay.”

He shuffled back into the room and closed the door. With the light off and the curtain closed, he was left in pleasant twilight. Maybe he could beg off on going back, and they could just have a nap. Yeah, right.

Taking the shorts off, he dropped them on the floor and flopped down onto Courfeyrac’s bed. His jeans had fallen off the other side. They were heavier than they should be when he picked them up, and he suddenly remembered his phone was in his pocket. He laid down on his front, in his underwear, kicking gently as he looked at the dark screen. After a bit of staring, he unlocked it.

‘COSETTE,’ he texted furiously, ‘THE MOST INCREDIBLE THING HAS HAPPENED TO ME. to make a long story short I think I have a boyfriend...’

He stared at the phone for a few straight minutes just like in the good old days, until she messaged back. ‘aww, that's great!’

He puffed up a little, unable to help but be pleased. ‘you ought to be the first person to hear… that about one third of the incredible thing was my successful deflowerment…’

‘haha, gross! ponine says hi :D’

Marius smiled and clutched his phone to his heart, hoping the girls could feel him saying ‘hi’ back.

**Author's Note:**

> I know I mixed up stuff about Marius's family but his actual family situation is too complicated and I thought just having an overbearing aunt and shitty cousin would be fun.


End file.
